Redwall: The Standard of Death
by bob4
Summary: The Ferret Warlord Whitekill and his Horde have heard of Redwall and how they defeated Cluny the scourge (it gets violent later)
1. chapter 1

Hiya! Most of the characters and the setting and the idea all belong to Brian Jacques, the   
  
genius with a quill. The plot however is mine.  
  
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Taken from the writings of John Churchmouse.  
  
It has been 3 seasons since Matthias defeated Cluny the Scourge. It seems that out of a   
  
good deed, can come a bad one. Rumor from a traveling quail that many Vermin have heard of   
  
Cluny's downfall. They are eager to test their might. A lot of Hot-headed gangs have   
  
"attacked." All have been defeated and sparred. On a lighter note Matthias and Abbot Alf (he   
  
now refuses to be now as Mordalfus!) Have caught their biggest Grayling ever! it ways almost   
  
3 pounds. It took almost 12 hours to catch! With the help of Constance and all the Otters it   
  
was finally hauled in. Friar Hugo almost died when he saw it. Mattimeo and no-longer silent   
  
Sam are keeping the terrible twins Tim and Tess always busy by a never ending game of tag.   
  
It still hasn't stopped snowing, though I like it like this... well it looks like there's a   
  
giant snowball fight and I'm not one to not play so I'm going to play. I'll see you on the   
  
marrow.  
  
John washed his hands and went outside. With Dibbuns running around and sucking on   
  
icicles, life felt good. There had been no threat to Redwall in three weeks and hadn't been a   
  
casualty in nearly a season.  
  
But else where things were not so good. A fieldmouse in Mossflower was not having a   
  
good day.  
  
"Tell us where Redwall is or 'ill gut ya!"  
  
"It's up the road..across from the ditch. But if you're planning to try to conquer Redwall   
  
you'll never do it! You get yours ferret! You'll...."  
  
He never got further. His lifeless body hit the ground with a dagger in his skull.  
  
"Move out or the Chief will Kill ya. We need to find that Abbey or we won't see the   
  
night. Sergeant!"  
  
"Sir!"  
  
"Report to the Chief and give him the coordinates to 'em.  
  
"Sir!"  
  
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The Warlord Whitekill the Fierce was in a good mood. A pure White ferret (not albino)   
  
with blue eyes gave him a cute appearance. But He was anything but cute. He could not stand   
  
any other creature, so all but his seer was a Ferret. He had an aura of fear that caused   
  
even the bravest creature to shake in his wake. He even had a wolf to ride into battle. His   
  
standard bearer could barely hold the flag without it shaking. The Standard was his   
  
symbol, and it was known as the symbol of death. It had a mole skull, along with mouse and   
  
badger skull. The badger wanted to keep his land.  
  
So he lost his life.  
  
"Major Deathbed!"  
  
"Sir"  
  
"Has their been any word from Captain Frowe?"  
  
"Yes, he has sent the coordinates. We will march when you say."  
  
"IDIOT! why did you not tell me sooner?! You are lucky you are leaving with your life.   
  
leave now Captain. And prepare to March."  
  
The newly demoted Captain sulked off. Once you were demoted you really need to work hard   
  
in this Horde to get back up.  
  
CLONK!  
  
The standard Bearer had dropped the flag on Whitekill's head.  
  
A smile was on the warlords face.  
  
"Throw him on the fire...alive."  
  
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A feast was at Redwall and it was the Winter of the Endless Snow. There was an   
  
unrelenting snowstorm that hadn't stopped since the last leaf had fallen. Sometimes it was   
  
heavy, other times light, though it had never stopped. The Feast was nothing short of   
  
magnificent. With the mushroom pasties and fruit salads, everyone was happy.   
  
"Try the Ale, its great!"  
  
"Burr 'aye, you bee mity right! Try ze' salad."  
  
"This Pasties is Godly!"  
  
"Here to Father Alf!"  
  
"Yeah!!!"  
  
That was when Whitekill came.  
  
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How is it? tell me! Yes there will be continuation. 


	2. chapter 2

HI OH!! This is the second installment in The Standard of Death. Most of the characters are   
  
not mine. The plot however is mine. ummmm... plz r&r.  
  
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"What's with that bally drummin? With this honorable war wound I need rest, wot wot!"  
  
"Oh sister I've got this here honorable pounding in this head of mine."  
  
"Now that's not in your head, I hear it to."  
  
Somewhat muffled by the endless snow, Whitekill's war drums were pounding endlessly.   
  
Matthias sighed. "Defenders up!" Instantly the wall defendors jumped on to the wall to be   
  
ready to fight...and met a hail of poisoned shafts.  
  
Matthias new he was fighting an experienced warlord.  
  
Shouting over the wall he yelled "State your name and bisness but be warned you will pay for that."  
  
"you have no need to fear that was a warning. those who were hit will not survive   
  
though, so don't bother trying to save them. I am Captain Frowe, and I represent the horde   
  
of the Standard of Death. Lord Whitekill the Fierce demands your complete and unchallenged   
  
surrender. If you do not...none shall survive.  
  
Matthias stood up along with Constance, Basil and Winifred. He could not help shaking when seeing a white ferret riding a silver wolf. "We are the Warriors of Redwall. I am Matthias. Under normal conditions you would be allowed to reconsider. but that attack has sealed your fate.  
  
Whitekill smiled. "Read them the prophecy."  
  
Orca the stoat was a fearsome figure. with a clock of a badger and a staff with a adder   
  
skull, she was as shocking as Whitekill.  
  
When the Scourge fails,  
  
The Fierce shall triumph,  
  
The white shall destroy the red,  
  
When winter refuses to die.  
  
"I am Whitekill the Fierce, Trainer of Cluny the Scourge. I am an assassin, and I   
  
intend to kill you all in the worst way possible!"  
  
The horde shuddered visibly.  
  
"May the Devil show mercy to them."  
  
"Glad I'm in this side."  
  
"This is going to get ugly."  
  
"You, Badger, I challenge you," shouted Whitekill drawing two Katars*.  
  
"There is no reason. I would kill you faster than a brick falling out of a tree."  
  
there was much snickering in the horde. Whitekill smiled. With lightning fast speed   
  
Whitekill threw two knives, impaling Constance in both arms.  
  
"Try fighting now. I'll be back in three days."  
  
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Three otters, four mice, two moles, three squirrels were hit with the deadly volley. Jess was scraped with one of the arrows, but it did not kill her. It gave her a fever though. It was hectic. With so many grieving families Sister Mallory (the infirmary sister) asked to move the family's to the great hall. No-longer silent Sam was shaking with rage as he dampened his mother's brow.  
  
Father Alf shook his head. "How could any creature do such a thing? It seems just to   
  
violent to be real."  
  
"They will pay...on my sword ratdeath..they will pay."  
  
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Is that good? bad? tell me!!!! i'll try to do a new chapter a day. 


	3. chapter 3

Hello! This is the third installment in The Standard of Death. To my regret, Brian Jacques made the story before me. So the Redwallers, the world, Redwallers, and Redwall it's self, is his. But, the plot and the horde are mine. plz. r&r/ thanks. Enjoy!  
  
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Whitekill was happy. In the first meeting he had already killed about 13 and made the badgers useless and tonight he was planning to take out that mouse.  
  
"Colonel Graey"  
  
"sirrrr?" Graey was Whitekill's twin. He always said r's long. His weapon of choice was a belt of twelve poisoned daggers. He was second in command, and a fellow assassin. He had killed another ferret that was white and used his fur to cover his mouth and made gloves. He was an expert in stealth and climbing, the perfect assassin. When ever he killed someone, he stabbed them and left the dagger there. He often ran out. In which case he used a gladius; the tools he had with him were grease a rope, and a small hooked cutting tool to cut rope. All of his tools were as white as his fur.  
  
"Did you see the mouse?"  
  
"Yes, I saw him. a strrrrong warrrriorrr."  
  
"Maim him. Don't kill him. Use a non-poisoned dagger."  
  
"sirrrrrrrr."  
  
He was gone.  
  
Whitekill was hungry. "You there!" he said pointing to a low level soldier. "Go to my tent. I am hungry." the soldier was never seen again.  
  
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Jess was still not well. The temperature was too high. Sam could barely stand. Silently he made a decision. He got up, and snuck out of Redwall.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Brother Alf and Sister Mallory were constatrating on Constance. The knives weren't poisonous, but they hit nerve, and Constance couldn't move her arms.  
  
"Well Constance," spoke up they shy Mallory "you need to rest for a while. Don't move your arms, and it looks like you're out of the fight.  
  
Mean while, Matthias, Winfred, Basil, and Foremole were having a council of war.  
  
"Now this ferret is no fool, simple tactics like that won't work.  
  
"I wonder if he was telling the truth, I mean, trainer of Cluny? That's something we should worry about.  
  
"Well, will just need to see wot wot."  
  
"Zhat's not 'portant, vurmin be vurmin."  
  
Foremole's mole logic was right as always.  
  
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Sam was hopelessly lost. He had wandered around for about 3 hours so far as his feet were getting sore. He new what he had to do. He still had the dagger from those 3 seasons before. He planned to use it.  
  
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How's that? Is it ok? Tell me! Please r&r 


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